


What's poking me? (and other such thoughts)

by irishcookie



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Vague Spoilers, WinterShock - Freeform, unconnected drabbles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-06-09 07:54:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6896566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishcookie/pseuds/irishcookie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of unconnected (thus far) Wintershock drabbles based on requests to my tumblr.  Most are not set in any specific timeline but I would say there are vague references to the MCU up to and including Civil War.  Feel free to leave prompts in the comments if you so wish!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Come with me

**Author's Note:**

> A few days ago I opened tumblr up to drabble requests Darcy Lewis style. I received a few of the Wintershock variety and had a blast filling them. I am publishing them here and am always open to more prompts, whether you leave them here in the comments or leave them at my tumblr (mandywantsacookie).

_**Come with me** _

After Greenwich, everyone needs a break. 

Darcy knows she hasn’t been through half the shit Jane has and even she is considering hibernation ( _it involves a comfy bed and a never ending supply of powdered donuts_ ). The only snag in the plan is Thor. Not that Darcy doesn’t have a soft spot for the big guy — she just realizes with him around, she is more _third wheel_ than _best friend_. In the name of giving the lovebirds some space, Darcy decides she will do a little roaming around Europe. 

It’s what everyone does post college right? 

She makes it as far as Cologne before it truly sinks in that she doesn’t have the funds to wander too much. She camps out for a day or two, weighing her options and decides that until Jane comes up for air, she is better off hauling ass back to the States (and her mother; _oh joy!_ ). 

She spends her final night walking alongside the Rhine and stuffing a pastry in her mouth. She feels uneasy and wants to blame it on her impending homecoming but she knows that is just not right. When she crosses the street to her hotel she catches sight of a figure all in black and swears he is _looking right at her_. 

She decides she has spent far too much time running for her life. 

It is after one in the morning when she jolts awake, her hands scrambling to find her glasses. That feeling is back — only it is stronger and overtakes the cramped room. She takes a deep breath. 

Then sees him (the same _him_ that she had witnessed on the street corner earlier). 

Darcy lets out a very undignified yelp and scrambles for some sort of safety. Of course she is still tangled in blankets so the result is her tumbling off the bed with a heavy thud. She curses as pain shoots through her elbow and then looks up. He stands over her, regarding in a way that causes her to instinctively want to dive under the bed. Before she can get the chance, he is hauling to her feet using a metal arm (wait — _metal arm?!_ ). 

“ _Come with me_ ,” he instructs, his voice sounding hoarse, almost as if he rarely uses it. 

Darcy bulks but moments later a bullet shatters the glass of her window and her eyes go wide. She realizes he has still got a hold of her arm and could easily drag her out of there. The fact that he hasn’t says something. 

Before the second bullet embeds in the wall, she is nodding. 

Then they run.


	2. Why is it glowing?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Darcy receives a gift from Thor and Bucky asks an important question

_**Why is it glowing?** _

Bucky finds her sitting at the breakfast bar. There is a bowl of ice cream in front of her and she is absentmindedly rolling some kind of metal sphere with her hand. Darcy’s head bounces and he realizes she has earbuds jammed in (it’s better that way; she had tried to introduce him to her taste in music a few weeks ago and he had thought his ears were going to bleed). 

He knows better than to just sneak up on her. He had done that once, totally by accident. Her automatic response had been to try and kick him right in the crotch. Years of fighting ( _years of running_ ) allowed him to easily deflect it. She had wandered off muttering that he had gotten _lucky_. 

So this time around he is loud, purposely making his footsteps heavy. She glances up, spoon shoved fully in her mouth and then smiles. One earbud gets pulled out and dangles over her shoulder. “ — you look like you just got the snot kicked out of you,” she announces. 

He stops short, his face screwing up incredulously. “Hello to you too, doll,” he counters. He knows logically that one can never predict what is going to come out of her mouth but still, she throws him for a loop every damn time. “Sparring with Steve.” 

“Yeah, he kicked your ass,” Darcy repeats. She leans over the breakfast bar to pull another spoon out of the drawer. She slides it towards him and then pushes her bowl into the middle. “Ice cream makes everything better.” 

He doesn’t argue (another thing he has quickly learned when it comes to her). Instead he sticks in his spoon, his eyes drifting to the metal ball still being pushed around by her palm. He tilts his head curiously. “What is that?” 

Darcy blinks and then follows his gaze. “Oh!” Her hand stills and shifts so she’s holding it. “It’s a gift. From Thor. Some sort of Asgardian paperweight I think.” She grins. “Actually, he told me that _it will prove itself worthy of me just when I need it too_.” The last bit is spoken in a pretty spot on impression of the towering god. 

“Huh,” Bucky states and then goes for more ice cream. The two sit there for awhile. They don’t talk; they just empty the bowl. Then he is narrowing his brows again. “Why is it glowing?” 

Darcy holds up the sphere. Sure enough, it’s got colors swirling around and they are getting brighter. She looks over it at him and he notes the high level of mischief in her eyes. “I don’t know — but let’s find out.” She’s reaching for his hand. 

_This won’t end well_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun with this one mainly because I can see this blowing up in their face spectacularly!


	3. What's poking me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When hiding out from the enemy takes a turn for the worse?

_**What's poking me?** _

Darcy does what any sensible woman with a mouth full of sweaty glove would do — she bites down. 

Thankfully, the finger she chomps on is very much flesh and blood and not metal (otherwise she’d be testing the limits of Stark Industries dental plan). Behind her Bucky sucks in a breath and then pulls his hand free of the danger zone. “ _What the hell did you do that for?_ ” He hisses in her ear. 

“ _Sssh_ ,” she retorts. “Bad guys with very sharp instruments of death close by.” It is a reminder he does not need. She bets that he would like very much to be in the thick of the fight and not trapped in a confined space with her. _Too bad, Bucky Boy, you’re on protect Darcy detail — and need I remind you that you assigned yourself that duty when you practically ripped my arm off dragging me in here_. 

She can’t see his face (she can’t even move to try). Instead she has her eyes on the wall ahead of her and she is silently counting until the all clear is called. He shifts behind her, jostling her until she pitches forward. Her hands shoot out and she manages to save herself a spill. 

“Stay still,” he orders between clenched teeth. 

She doesn’t point out that it is his fault she nearly crash landed in the first place. Instead she presses her lips together and tries a new technique to pass the time — singing (in her head of course). Soon she sways just a little to _Cake by the Ocean_ and in the process her body brushes his. 

She realizes just how _confined_ this space is. 

Her body stills. 

“What’s poking me?” She asks and the answer is immediate. “ _Oh_.” Then her face scrunches up as it truly dawns on her. “ ** _Oh_**!” Her voice echoes and he is quick to cover her mouth. 

This time with the metal hand. 

She lets out a protest that is effectively muffled. When they get out of there, he going to get an ear full. 

In the meantime… 

Darcy doesn’t think twice about pushing her body flush against his. She grinds down just enough to make him groan low in his throat. She grins behind his hand. 

Seconds later the door is yanked open and they topple out. Given his hold on her she lands square on his midsection he lets out a mighty yelp. She doesn’t bother moving from her perch and looks up to find a bewildered Steve Rogers regarding the two of them. 

She smiles sweetly. “My hero!” 

Bucky curses under his breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my favorite one to write so far because UST


	4. Belly dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From a tumblr prompt: Bucky catches Darcy belly dancing.

He doesn’t mean to spy.

_Truly_. 

Bucky had showered off a rather intense workout, dressed and stumbled out of the locker room to find _her_ there. Rather than call attention to himself (interrupting would seem rude), he had pressed his back against the wall where he figured he would wait until the opportune moment to sneak past her presented itself. 

He was still standing there. 

Bucky would like to blame it on not being able to escape without notice but he is a highly trained assassin for God’s sake. If he wants to leave without her being none the wiser, he can do it. Knowing that, he is forced to confront the only other explanation: he wants to be there. 

He wants to watch Darcy. 

He knows that she dances. She has mentioned it about a dozen times; its her way of dealing with stress. He just figured that meant bopping around to whatever Top 40 hit had caught her attention that week. She has enough maniac energy for it (he has seen it on full display many _many_ times). So every time she had wandered off to dance he had pictured flailing limbs and singing on the top of her lungs. 

This is different. 

This is _controlled_. 

From his vantage point, he watches her move. Each roll of her hip, each swirl of her arm — everything is carefully considered and performed. He can see each muscle move as she does and it is mesmerizing. Her body seems connected to the heart of the music, never missing a beat. One would suspect given how the rest of her moves that her face would be a mask of concentration but instead she has a look of pure joy. Here she is free to express herself. 

He feels slightly guilty for watching. His eyes are drawn to those hips as they jut back and forth in tight precision. He tries his best to look away but in the end, his gaze returns. He knows there is nothing sexual about what she is doing. She is not trying to entice him (she doesn’t even know he is there). She is simply enjoying herself and he feels like a dirty old man for being entranced by it. 

Darcy arches her back now, bending backwards at a near impossible angle (she’s flexible, something else Bucky knows he shouldn’t focus on but does anyway). Her arms bend, her finger curl, her hair spills down like a waterfall and he thinks that should be a damn picture right there. 

_Christ_ , if he keeps this up he’ll be in the kind of trouble that he’ll have to take care of himself. 

He pushes back at those thoughts and retreats towards the locker room. He feels foolish for hiding out but he knows it is safer than the alternative. He sits on the bench, his mind replaying what he has just witnessed. He never knew she had it in her. In fact, he wonders just how much of Darcy Lewis people overlook on a daily basis. _More than she deserves_ , he decides and vows to change that. 

He waits longer than he probably needs to before he once again tries to make his escape. He finds the room empty and can’t decide if he is relieved or not. 

Bucky doesn’t lay eyes on Darcy Lewis again for almost three days. That is not by choice; he is not going out of his way to avoid her (although part of him feels as if he should). The way this place operates — he can be killing time one moment and wishing for it the next. 

When he does see her, she is nursing a bowl of cereal on the couch, her legs tucked under her. He hesitates before sitting down next to her. She spares him a glance before turning her gaze back to the television. He has no idea what show is playing but he is sure she has tried to tell him more than once. 

“The elusive Bucky Barnes,” she begins and there is a hint of a grin on her face. “You guys beat up the bad guys, save freedom and all that?” 

He can’t help but snort a laugh. “Yeah, we did.” 

“Score one for Team Us,” she says before she goes back to shoveling in cereal at an alarming rate. He is beginning to wonder if she has the same eating habits as Steve. He finds himself at the ready in case she chokes. 

The silence that settles between them isn’t an uncomfortable one (he had expected it to be since he still feels like a peeping tom). 

Finally, she stands, stretching her limbs (her stomach peeks out from underneath the hem of her shirt and he finds his gaze drawn to it). She looks to him. “I’m going to dance.” She is nearly out of the room before she speaks again. “You wanna come? You don’t have to hide in the corner this time.” 

His eyes widen and his body goes rigid. He can hear her laughter trailing through the hall. 

He had been right — there are a lot of things about Darcy Lewis that people overlook. 

He waits a beat and then finds himself chasing after her.


	5. Cupcake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a good reason she baking at the ass crack of dawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written in honor of Bucky Barnes' 100th birthday today!

It’s early in the morning when Bucky finds her in the communal kitchen.

She’s got headphones in and she is singing (he winces because it is horribly off key). He doesn’t recognize the song but to fair if it wasn’t released in the thirties the chances he will actually know it are minimal. 

He had intended to grab an apple to chew on before his morning run. Instead he stops short in the door to survey the scene. There’s Darcy in the middle of the kitchen, with a bowl tucked under her arm. Various food items are strewn across the counter — flour, cracked eggs, a bag of sugar that has tipped over and spilled half its contents. Bucky thinks that if Steve were here he’d be frantically following behind with a wet rag and a dustpan. 

He, however, pays no attention to the mess. He’s got his eyes on Darcy. 

She’s dancing now (thankfully what she lacks in the singing department she makes up for in the dance department). Her hips move and she stirs whatever the hell she is concocting in the same rhythm. All he can see is curves, even through that ridiculous polka dot pajama set she is clad in. He feels a bit like a peeping tom, standing there as she belts out some atrocious pop song and swings her body around. 

Bucky should leave. 

Instead he is still standing there when she finally twists herself just the right way and lays eyes on him. The horrified yelp she lets out sounds better than her singing. She nearly drops the bowl but manages to wrap both her arms around it and hug it to her breasts like it is her child. She levels him with a glare. “Your mama didn’t teach you manners did she?” 

_Good morning to you too_ , he thinks before he snorts. “She’d be smacking me upside the head if she could,” Bucky assures her. 

She gently relinquishes the bowl to the counter. A moment later an apple is flying at his head. He easily snatches it out of the air. “Thanks.” 

She’s already singing again. 

**X**

There’s a pleasant smell wafting from the kitchen when he returns from his run and it is like a siren call. 

He might have followed (he’d risk round two with Darcy — actually, he’d _look forward_ to round two) if Steve hadn’t smacked him in the chest as he walks by. 

“Let’s go a few rounds,” Steve says with that boyish grin of his. “I’m feeling rusty.” 

Bucky scowls. “Says the man who took out an entire Hydra cell last week.” 

Steve concedes by pressing his lips together. “You’re rusty then.” 

“The hell I am,” Bucky retorts and it’s on. 

The siren call will have to wait. 

**X**

He and Steve are deadlocked when Natasha interrupts them to tell them their help is needed. 

Steve steps back and gives him a sort of morose look. “Sorry, Buck, I know it’s not the way you should spend this day.” 

Bucky shrugs. “Duty calls.” 

**X**

It’s nearly midnight when they get back. 

Bucky is covered in sweat, blood and grime. He desperately wants a shower. He can hear the others behind him, reliving a well fought victory. He doesn’t feel like joining in — he fights out of necessity, not because he enjoys it. 

Steve claps him on the shoulder and squeezes before they go their separate ways. Bucky’s mind is solely on washing away the mission — that is until he hears a familiar voice. 

“You are _such a pig_!” 

Bucky stops, his muscles instinctively tensing for a fight. Darcy’s voice carries all the way from the kitchen. _Why is she there this time of night?_ He pictures any number of reasons she has shouted such a statement and he is ready to dismantle the cause in each case. 

He is about to turn and do more good deed for the day when the follow up statement echos through the hall. 

“Get the hell out of here, Barton, before I shove a broom up your ass.” 

A moment later, Clint fast walks by him looking sheepish. 

Bucky grins. 

Clearly his services are not needed here 

**X**

He is still damp from the shower when there is a knock on his door. 

He figures it is Steve, ready to celebrate what is left in the day with a stiff drink (it had been their way of doing things back when they were huddled together in tents in the middle of Europe). 

Instead he finds Darcy standing there. 

She’s in a different set of pajamas this time (are those _cartoon ducks_ on the shorts?!). Her hair is a wild tangled mess and she isn’t wearing her glasses. He finds himself caught up in her wide blue eyes for a moment. Then he realizes she is holding a single cupcake in her hand. 

“ — midnight snack?” He asks. 

Darcy shakes her head. “You should know there was a proper cake — well, they were cupcakes shaped like a cake. There were sprinkles and your name written in perfect script,” she begins before her expression turns sour. “Then Clint stuck his fist in it for an an after mission sugar rush…” She extends the cupcake in his direction. “I managed to save this. Would have gotten more but I was asleep when you guys landed.” 

It is automatic for Bucky to take it from her. He holds it delicately, like he is afraid it will break. 

“I wanted you to have it before the day was over,” she explained. She is on her toes looking over his shoulder at the clock to ensure she has met her goal. She has and she beams at her win. Before she falls back on her heels, she leans in and brushes her lips across his cheek. “Happy Birthday, Bucky.” Then she turns, muttering something about having a date with her pillow. 

He is left standing there with the cupcake in his hand. He glances down to see the perfectly formed baked good, decorated with blue icing. There are traces of the sprinkles she promised and he can make out a B. 

He is still holding it when Steve shows up with a bottle of whiskey. His friend glances at the sweet and then gives Bucky a smug grin. Bucky makes a face but is careful when he sets the cupcake on his counter. 

He decides he will enjoy it in the morning (after he trips Barton and properly thanks Darcy).


End file.
